The USB drive felt like a small, innocuous key to a very large, very locked door. Ellie clutched it tightly as she made her way back to her cramped, quiet room in the White House staff quarters. The casual rhythm of her evening was shattered by the weight of the device and the President's words: "Do not trust the shadows."
She didn't have a personal computer, a luxury not afforded to White House cleaners. Her options were limited. She couldn't use a White House terminal; that would be a security nightmare. The staff shared a common area with a single, ancient desktop, but that was too risky. The "shadows" could be anywhere.
Her only option was the public library downtown. It felt like a lifetime ago that she'd navigated the city's public transport. The thought of venturing out alone, with this potentially dangerous secret, made her stomach clench. But the craving for answers, the desperate need to understand her father's past, outweighed her fear.
Under the cloak of night, bundled in a nondescript jacket and a scarf pulled low to hide her face, Ellie slipped out of the White House. The familiar D.C. streets, usually a source of bewildering fascination, now seemed to hold a lurking menace. Every shadow felt longer, every passing car too slow. She walked swiftly, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
The library was quiet, a haven of hushed whispers and turning pages. She found an empty computer terminal in a secluded corner, her hands trembling slightly as she inserted the USB drive. The files opened, a cascade of documents, spreadsheets, and scanned letters. It was overwhelming.
She started with the spreadsheets: intricate columns of numbers, company names, dates. Many were in Xanadu's complex financial script, but some key terms were in English: "Northern Timber Corporation," "Overseas Investments," "Project Phoenix." And then, there it was: a large, bold entry marked "MISSING LEDGER – INVENTORY AUDIT FAILURE." It was her father's company. The ledger was real.
Her eyes scanned the names listed in associated documents. Some she vaguely recognized from old family gatherings, once powerful figures now faded into obscurity. Others were completely unknown. But one name made her freeze: "Minister Chen." Not her father, whose given name was different, but a distant, more powerful relative she'd heard whispered about in hushed tones. A high-ranking government official in Xanadu. The files indicated a complex web of transactions, land deals, and alleged embezzlement, all centered around a massive government construction project – Project Phoenix. Her father's name appeared repeatedly, often as the scapegoat, the one whose signature mysteriously appeared on documents that led to accusations of fraud.
As she delved deeper, reading scanned letters full of veiled threats and desperate pleas, a clearer picture began to emerge. Her father hadn't just 'disappeared.' He had been caught in a political and financial power struggle, used as a pawn in a scheme orchestrated by powerful figures, possibly including his own distant relative, Minister Chen, to siphon off funds from Project Phoenix. The "missing ledger" was likely the key to proving his innocence – or their guilt.
Hours passed. The library was emptying. Ellie's head throbbed, her eyes burned. The weight of the information was crushing. Her father was innocent. But he had been entangled in something far bigger, far more dangerous than she had ever imagined. And now, by possessing this information, so was she.
She carefully deleted the Browse history, ejected the USB, and left the library, the knowledge a heavy burden. Back in her room, sleep refused to come. Every creak of the White House, every distant siren, seemed amplified, imbued with a new, sinister meaning. She tossed and turned, the faces of powerful, unfamiliar men from the documents flashing behind her eyelids, mixed with the image of Agent Miller's impassive face. The White House, once her quirky, chaotic refuge, now felt like a gilded cage.